


Samneric, Eighteen

by Prin_of_Pol



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Could be triggering, Dream Sequence, Gen, idk - Freeform, it's a LotF Fanfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-01
Updated: 2013-03-01
Packaged: 2017-12-03 23:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/703912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prin_of_Pol/pseuds/Prin_of_Pol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some years after the island, the twins sleep. But the drugs can't keep the dreams away.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Samneric, Eighteen

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this is, I wrote it for English today...

_It was dark. Dark, dark green. Feet pound on crushed leaves, echoed by another. Branches whip at identical faces, tearing at exposed skin._

Nights are filled with terror.

_Tangled fingers are ripped apart, and smoke fills the sky._

The lamps are always lit.

_Up, up, up. Up the mountain, through the trees, passed evil eyes glowing from inside dried out skulls. “Run little boys.”_

Hands tremble in daylight, bodies shake at night.

_Pigs’ heads on sticks, pale bodies on red stained sand, shells smashed on the rocks._

Such horrible things cannot be unseen.

_“You can run little boys.” Up the mountain, boys run, fire climbs, painted faces peer through vines. “You can leave me,” wooden spears slice the air. “But I’ll never leave you.”_

Wounds have healed, scars have faded, yet eyes remain fearful.

_“I’ll always be here.” Cold eyes through thick paint, shaggy hair masking human features. “You cannot escape.”_

They are never apart, never without the other. Especially not at night.

_The trees blaze, but the fire pit is black and cold. Parachutes drag bodies through the burning flowers._

They are eighteen, men, but their fear is that of a child.

_Voices that sang now growl and snarl. Hands that held books wield weapons. Pigs’ heads covered in blankets of flies._

Clasped hands twitch, faces scrunch in unison, and blankets twist around drug filled bodies.

_“You can run little boys.”_

The drugs can’t block the dreams.

_The fire looms before them, throats fill with smoke._

Twin screams fill the air, twins shoot up in bed.

“The fire’s gone out-”

“-but the ground burns!”

Sam and Eric cling to each other, hands curled into claws, eyes wide, hair matted with sweat, ears deaf to words of comfort.

_“You can run.”_

They never sleep for long.

_“But you can’t hide.”_

 

 


End file.
